


a study in stolen moments

by lettersfromnowhere



Series: never use last with us (romy fic) [3]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Might be OOC, i have no idea how to feel about this, kiss meme, tumblr prompt fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersfromnowhere/pseuds/lettersfromnowhere
Summary: Rogue/Gambit kiss prompt fills, as requested by the denizens of Tumblr.





	a study in stolen moments

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by @thehazeofdusk, who sadly is not on AO3 - this was written for that "send me a ship and a number and I'll write you a kiss" meme with the prompts "to shut them up," "in secrecy," "in public," and "to distract." 
> 
> Got a little long, so I decided to post it here because Why Not? 
> 
> Also, this is by far the most innuendo I've ever written into a thing and I lowkey feel Scandalous. Oops.

**_7\. to shut them up_ **

“You can’ be puttin’ yourself in danger like that all the time!” 

“Remy, I had orders.”

“Well, you coulda got yourself outta there before-”

“What, you sayin’ I shoulda just packed up and ran when things went sideways? I’m _invulnerable,_ Remy. I have no excuse.”

“I’m sayin’ that if you know the place’s gonna blow, your priority’s s'posed to be _gettin’ out!_ ”

“There were people in that building who weren’t gonna get out ‘less I went in after 'em. Did you _really_ expect that I’d leave all those people to die?”

“You did everything you could and _yes, I would,_ ‘cause none of those people were my wife, so 'course I’m gonna tell you to save yourself-”

Rogue grabbed a fistful of the collar of Remy’s worn-out t-shirt, pulled his face to hers, and told him exactly what she thought of his excessive concern. (And to cut him off. A small part of her wondered if he might see reason if she…spoke his native language.) 

Remy scratched the back of his neck when they separated. “Didja do that just to shut me up?”

Rogue smirked. “Wouldn’t have had to if you’d just keep that pretty head on straight.”

“If what jus’ happened meant anythin’, it’s on _just fine_.”

* * *

_**8\. in secrecy** _

“Can’t get a moment alone these days,” Rogue sighed, collapsing into an armchair and giving it a halfhearted spin as she took a sip of her now-lukewarm coffee. “It just me, or do you feel like they’ve been watchin’ us extra close around here since we got hitched?” 

“Are they watchin’ us more or do you just wanna kiss me on the job more than you used to?” Remy teased, leaning against the desk in front of her. “I can arrange that.” 

“Oh, please. Leave it to you to assume that’s what I was askin’ for when I said that,” Rogue said, her sparkling eyes betraying the fact that he’d been a little more on-the-nose than she’d wished he would be. 

“You act like I haven’t been thinkin’ ‘bout every corner ‘a this mansion I want to kiss you in since the day we met,” he replied with laughably fake innocence. 

“ _Remy_ …” 

“ _What_?” 

“We’re at work. Don’t you have more important things to be thinkin’ about?” 

He shook his head resolutely. “Ain’t nothing more important’n you, _chere_.” 

“I’m touched,” she deadpanned, “but I came in here to give myself a break.” 

“Please, _chere,_ the first thing you did when we got her was complain ‘bout how we never get time alone.” 

“Ugh.” Rogue feigned annoyance. “C’mere, you.” 

He obliged and perched on the armrest of her office chair to kiss her - first a quick peck, the one that lingered a few seconds longer, and another that remained longer still until they both had to come up for air and a sound at the door snapped them out of the moment. 

“Sorry!” a mousy voice said from the doorway, which was cracked open to reveal a young student’s terrified expression. The child scampered away as fast she could and Rogue’s cheeks turned bright red. Remy didn’t share her apprehension. 

“That,” he wheezed in between bouts of hysterical laughter, “was _priceless_.”

“Getting walked in on by a six-year-old?!?” 

“Did you see your _face_?” 

She didn’t look amused - more hysterical laughter.

“I thought you were going to l _ose it_ -” another wheeze. 

“You do know that you’re about to fall off of that thing, right?” 

Remy glanced down at the armrest, which he was barely on, and grinned. “Thanks for the warning.” 

He proceeded to collapse across the chair until he’d essentially flopped across both armrests, preventing his irritated (or pretending-to-be) wife from leaving her chair. She simply sighed and took another sip of her coffee. 

“Next time, we’re locking the door.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead for good measure. “Idiot.”

“But I’m you’re idiot.” 

Rogue grinned. “The one and only.”

* * *

_**9\. in public** _

“We’re bein’ followed,” Remy hissed. (Loudly. Rogue had concluded in her many years of knowing him that, for all his skill in sleight of hand, the man could _not_ whisper.) 

“I can see that, and you need to keep your voice down until we throw them.” She paused. “And _for the rest of this mission,_ for that matter.”

“ _Non,_ what we _need_ is _misdirection.”_

“…this again?” 

Remy smirked. “’Course. Best part of undercover work.” 

Rogue sighed, a bit exasperated but inwardly at least a _little_ more enthused than she appeared. “You wanna stay here or find a corner to wait it out in?” 

“Here is good.” He inclined his head and kissed her with as much panache and spectacle as he could muster. (It was all part of the game: excessive drama meant less prying eyes, because not even their pursuers wanted to watch that. It was an irritatingly Remy-ish tactic, but an effective one.) 

Rogue almost smirked at the sound of awkwardly-shuffling feet - people usually rushed to get past the couple obstructing the pathway with their impromptu makeout session in these scenarios - and returned the kiss with the theatrics it demanded and (if she was being honest) the genuine hunger that it most definitely _didn’t_ call for. 

(She wouldn’t ever admit it, but that tactic never got old.) 

* * *

_**17\. to distract** _

Remy barely got through the door before his wife flung herself at him with a total lack of regard for the fact that she could throw him through a wall without much effort - though he didn’t much mind. “Missed me?” 

“Happy birthday!” she said, unnaturally high-pitched and still clinging to him like a limpet. “Aren’t ya glad I made ya pick-” 

“If this is the kinda greeting I get? Definitely.” He squeezed her affectionately and attempted to extract himself from her viselike grip - he really did need to wash up after the Danger Room session he’d just overseen - but to no avail. Superstrength tended to have that effect on people. “I…not that I don’t love…this, but I’m kinda worn out and-” 

“Can’t I have five minutes with my husband before he’s gotta go runnin’ off again?” Rogue asked, pouting. ( _Pouting? She never pouts,_ he realized. _Something’s off here._ ) 

“’Course, _chere,_ but you’re actin’ kinda strange. Nervous. Is everything-” 

“Yes, of course, everything’s _fine!_ ” her voice rose in pitch at least an octave. “Everything is _juuuuust fiiiine._ ” 

Remy could’ve sworn he saw something move behind a plant out of the corner of his eye. “Rogue. Really. Something _moved_ back there.” He freed one hand to gesture towards the plant. 

“We have three cats, Remy. Things move in here all the time.” 

“Okay, this is gettin’ weird. Are you-mmf!” 

She cut him off with a kiss that, on any other day, would have been an utter _revelation,_ but right now was clearly a last-ditch attempt to prevent him from figuring out what she was up to. But he didn’t want to pull away…

“Sur _prise_!” 

A chorus of familiar voices rang out from behind furniture, plants, and windowsills as what seemed like every current, former, and prospective teammate they’d ever had came out of hiding. 

Remy glanced down at Rogue. “That the thing you didn’t want me to see?” 

“Happy birthday,” she said, fondly smacking his arm. “You’re awful hard to distract.” 

A few comments about Rogue’s choice of distractions rang out from the crowd gathered in their living room.

“Thank you. Really.” He kissed the crown of her head. “But…why’d you hafta hide it?”

Rogue grinned impishly. “Had to tip you off first. You kinda have a tendency to blow stuff up when I surprise you too much. I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t object to surprise parties considerin’ we had a _surprise wedding,_ buuuut. _.._ ” 

He kissed her again - this time just a peck. “You know me too well, _ma colombe.”_


End file.
